


Never Another

by ConsultingWriter



Series: Tender Moments [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Based on a song, Heartbroken!John, John Power (its like "girl power"...but for John), M/M, Sad!John, Sherlock doesn't understand, Sherlock is callous, Unhappy Ending, a story told mostly through texts, break-up, hurt-No-conformt, short!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingWriter/pseuds/ConsultingWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock misses their anniversary, misses his last chance, John decides its time to go.</p><p>  <i>She said, don't bother comin' home, by time you get here I'll be long gone. There's somebody new and he sure ain't no rodeo man. –I Can Still Make Cheyenne, George Straight. </i></p><p> <i><b>Traffic is slow, will be home soon—SH</b></i><br/><i>John let out a sobbing laugh and responded with shaky fingers.</i><br/><i><b>Doesn’t matter—JW </b></i><br/><i><b>Have you finally realized the insignificance of such celebrations?—SH</b></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Another

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normaly do angst but this wouldn't leave me alone, so here it is. The most angsty thing I'll proabably ever write. I promise.

_She said, don't bother comin' home, by time you get here I'll be long gone. There's somebody new and he sure ain't no rodeo man. –I Can Still Make Cheyenne, George Straight._

 

Pulling the zipper closed on his duffle bag, John sat heavily on his—no, not his anymore—the bed and cradled his head in his hand. He was finally finished packing and now he hurt more than he had when he’d started—when he realized that Sherlock wouldn’t be home for their anniversary, for his last chance. He jumped slightly when his phone pinged with a text.

 

**Traffic is slow, will be home soon—SH**

John let out a sobbing laugh and responded with shaky fingers.

**Doesn’t matter—JW**

**Have you finally realized the insignificance of such celebrations?—SH**

John paled as he read the text. Sherlock had known what today was, and had just dismissed it even when he knew how important it was to John. The doctor had thought the detective had just forgotten and even that was better than this….better than being dismissed as _insignificant_. John had told Sherlock last year—when he’d missed their anniversary for the fourth year in a row—that this would be his last chance. The doctor didn’t fuss about Sherlock forgetting his birthday, or Valentine’s Day, or anything else, but he expected Sherlock to do this for him, and apparently the genius couldn’t. With his mouth set in a grim, determined line he tapped out his response.

**No—JW**

**But I won’t be here when you get here—JW**

With that he dropped his phone in his pocket and picked up his bag, ignoring the loud ping that filled the empty flat. He moved to the sitting room and took in the scene with a heavy heart. It looked exactly like it had when he’d moved in so many years ago. It was cluttered and chaotic and completely empty of anything owned by John Watson. With one last touch to the back of his chair he turned and walked slowly down the stairs, leg aching the entire way. When he stood on the street his phone pinged again and he pulled it out, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

**What do you mean John?—SH**

**John?—SH**

**I meant exactly what it says, Sherlock. I’m leaving.—JW**

**Where? You never mentioned any trips—SH**

The ex-army Captain choked out a strangled laugh. Of course the detective wouldn’t understand.

**I’m not going on a trip Sherlock. I’m leaving Baker Street. I’m leaving you.—JW**

It took the next a minute to come.

**Don’t be silly John.—SH**

**Why are you leaving?—SH**

**Because I’m unimportant—JW**

**Don’t be an idiot John, of course you aren’t unimportant. You make solving cases 1.23 times easier.—SH**

John forced himself to shove down a fierce wave of anger. Of course. Of course that was what was important to his ex-partner. His work. It would always be about his work. John felt his eyes burn but squeezed them tight and took a deep breath. It would’ve been okay if The Work came first sometimes, or if he and The Work were equal but that would never be the case.  John would never come first to Sherlock, and that was unacceptable.

**And that’s why I’m leaving. I don’t want to be important to your work, I want to be important to you, and I’m not. I’m not even important enough to get a phone call.—JW**

**On our anniversary. The day I told you was your last chance.—JW**

**And you blew it. Congratulations, you can now focus on your work without my insignificant whims getting in your way.—JW**

In a fit of spite John ground his teeth and typed out one last text before turning off his phone.

**Good bye Sherlock Holmes. Don’t contact me again, I’m going to find someone new, and they won’t be a detective.—JW**

John settled himself into the cab that pulled up in front of him and gave Baker Street one last looking before the cabbie pulled onto the street. He let his head fall backwards. No, he would never date another detective, because there would never be another detective in the world for John Watson. There would always only be Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective.

**Author's Note:**

> Review, yeah?


End file.
